


The Power of Family

by MyFirstistheFourth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Everybody Lives, Forced Proximity, Frottage, HP: EWE, Kid!Fic, Kissing, M/M, Magical Medicine, Post-War, Unresolved Sexual Tension, magical bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 15:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFirstistheFourth/pseuds/MyFirstistheFourth
Summary: Family is everything: it’s one of the first things a Malfoy learns. When illness threatens the future of Draco’s family, he is forced to accept help from the unlikeliest of sources.





	The Power of Family

**Author's Note:**

> My constant and effusive thanks to the mods for working with me through all the delays and stumbling blocks life managed to put in the way. I’m so happy they made it possible for me to participate this year. Eternal gratitude to I...s for her incomparable beta skills and to l...D for the second pair of eyes. They help clean up my slop and make it fit for consumption. I hope you guys enjoy it. Now I get to go catch up reading everyone else’s stories! Yay!

{*} {*} {*}

“Healer Granger!”

Sighing, she lowered her half-eaten sandwich back to its paper wrapping atop her desk. _So much for lunch...again_. After eight years of frequently interrupted lunch breaks Hermione was used to it, but sometimes, she would simply like to finish a meal in one sitting before the next crisis arose.

“Healer Adams, how may I help you?”

Glancing guiltily towards her food, Adams spoke quickly. “I apologise for intruding upon your meal but there is a new case requiring your expertise. It is rather urgent.” He added the last sentence as though to excuse himself for ruining her meal.

The consideration was hardly necessary, her meal was already forgotten in the face of a patient requiring her aid. Hermione was already on her feet, a quick wave of her wand placing her sandwich and tea under a stasis charm. “Details, please.” Hermione moved to the door, motioning Adams to follow. “Quickly.” As they headed towards the wards, her sure strides led them through the waiting room and out into the corridor.

“Yes, Miss. A six-year-old wizard brought in by his father with stage-three Perussi Virus, symptoms began only thirty-six hours ago.”

“Have quarantine measures been implemented?” The case was indeed serious, and her pulse quickened at the prospect of a challenge. Before it was identified and adequate treatments devised, the Perussi Virus had been the leading cause of Squibs within the magical community, second only to those born naturally. If left untreated, the virus ruthlessly depleted the magical core of its victims until they were left without any magic. There had been many cases where parents had also lost their magic or their lives trying to save their children by giving their own magic.

“Yes. Full quarantine is in effect and preliminary treatments are underway. The father remains at the bedside for magical support; however, the second parent is not present.” 

Adams handed over the roll of parchment, excusing himself with a sharp nod; his report concluded.

Hermione accepted the parchment with the barest of acknowledgements; her mind deeply focused on the case as she increased her stride and tried to absorb what history she could from the paperwork before arriving at the paediatric wing. Zeroing in on the parent information, it appeared there was more to the story than merely a single parent. The father himself was the child’s bearer, not particularly unusual these days, but it would pose a small problem with helping the child. 

Hermione recalled when such was not the case. In the months after the war, just as she began her training as a junior Healer, the Ministry discovered a marked decline in fertility among wizarding families. Even among Muggle-born witches and wizards. The drop had been significant enough to threaten an entire generation of magic. Needless to say, the Ministry had put considerable resources into research. The cause was eventually determined to be the residual effects of Voldemort and the Dark Magic he had wrought in his rebirth. Such magic was not natural and had left rippling repercussions throughout the world, though Great Britain was the most heavily affected as he had performed the ritual itself here.

Hermione had soon found her calling, applying her considerable intelligence to fertility research, then subsequently to families, children, and the programs which brought them into the world. She had seen the advent of treatments to aid both female and male parents conceive and carry pregnancies to term, along with a shift in family dynamics.

Reaching the warded room, Hermione noted the shimmering red barrier that prevented the virus from spreading throughout the entire ward. Taking a moment to cast the protective charms which would allow her to come and go safely to treat the child, Hermione took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, assuming her professional demeanour as she stepped into the room.

The two figures in the room were cast into sharp relief by the harsh lighting, both were sleeping, either too sick or too tired to care about the brightness. Hermione wordlessly lowered the intensity of the lighting to a more soothing level as she observed her new charges. A small, slender boy with blond hair lay motionless in the bed, his skin so pale it approached translucence highlighting the dark circles under his eyes and the pink flush of fever in his cheeks. Hermione glanced at her paperwork once more, Scorpius, interesting name for a boy.

Beside the boy, a second figure slept, slumped over from his chair at the bedside. Slightly darker blond hair crowned his head pillowed atop one folded arm while the other stretched out across the mattress. His long pale fingers wrapped protectively around his son’s thin wrist. Undoubtedly, the man was as exhausted as his son.

Thirty-six hours, in this case, was a bit of a head start for the virus to take hold but not hopeless. Hermione glanced once more at the father’s hand, as pale as his son’s and knew fully well why the child hadn’t been brought in until now. Understandably, the father had attempted to help his son himself until the strain became too much. Hermione couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face at the father’s selfless actions. She had found it true, time and time again: a good parent would sacrifice anything for the sake of their child. 

Stepping around the end of the bed to approach the father, Hermione placed her hand gently on the man’s shoulder, clearing her throat to rouse the man before she began to speak. 

“Mister Black? I apologise for disturbing your rest. I am Healer Granger, and I will be overseeing your...son…” Her words tapered off as the man slowly raised his head and turned to look at her. His red-rimmed eyes and the dark circles under them weren’t nearly as disconcerting as the fact that she found herself staring at face of Draco Malfoy, a man she had not laid eyes on since the day the war ended. 

Draco’s piercing grey eyes narrowed and hardened as Hermione took a step back, glancing awkwardly at the parchment in her hands before she found her voice once more.

“Mister...Black?” Her confusion was clear in her tone.

There was a prolonged pause. Draco stared at her, assessing her with his gaze before leaning back in his chair. He glanced at his son, his back and shoulders stiffening. 

“My mother’s family name. The Malfoy name still enjoys a questionable reputation within Great Britain.” He turned his head sharply, accusing Hermione with his direct gaze. “I could not be certain of adequate treatment for my son otherwise, so I used a glamour and an alias. It has proven advantageous to do so since the war’s end; though it appears I was unable to maintain the glamour when I fell asleep.”

Hermione bristled at the implications though she could fully understand Malfoy’s position. The Malfoys were one of the most reviled families after the war. It was not without reason that they had heard little of the family in the intervening years. 

“It would be difficult for anyone to sustain a glamour under the strain of the Perussi virus,” Hermione replied. “And while I understand your fears, I can assure you that I will do everything within my power to help Scorpius.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up as he appeared to actually take in Hermione’s robes for the first time. “You?” His tone was incredulous but without venom. Perhaps he had not heard her earlier.

“Yes. Me. I will be overseeing Scorpius’ case, and with your permission, I would like to examine him. Then I will need to ask you some questions.”

Draco studied her face for a long moment as though trying to figure out a puzzle then nodded once. He did not, however, let go of Scorpius’ wrist.

“You will have to release him, Draco.” Her voice was gentle but firm. Draco’s fingers tightened defensively. “Only for a moment. Your magical signature will interfere with the scan otherwise.” Hermione was accustomed to soothing frazzled parents, and this proved to be no different despite the parent being Draco Malfoy. She recognized the familiar stubborn set of Malfoy’s jaw and coaxed some more. “Please? I can’t help Scorpius without your cooperation.”

Draco stiffened briefly then slowly uncurled his fingers from Scorpius’ wrist.

Hermione suspected Malfoy would never admit to the strain of supporting Scorpius but she noticed his sigh of relief and the easing of the tension in his shoulders as he slumped back in his chair. At the same time, Scorpius looked even frailer than a moment before, if that were possible. 

Quickly casting her spells, Hermione scanned each magical readout and collated the information with practised ease. When she was finished, she tried for an encouraging smile, but the furrow of her brow belied her concern.

“You are worried,” Draco stated flatly. “It’s plain to see. H-how bad is it?”

Hermione could read the fear in Malfoy’s eyes and smiled reassuringly, knowing she could at least put it to rest. “He will make a full recovery given time. I promise. Currently, his magical core is functioning at thirty percent of normal optimal levels.” Draco’s eyebrows drew together as his concern deepened. “It would have been much worse without your aid to Scorpius. The virus is quite virulent generally speaking, the strain he has especially, but we do have the means to treat it. We can speed Scorpius’ recovery with some additional assistance but even if that proves impossible, he will still recover.” 

Hermione wrote a few notes on a fresh parchment before rolling it up and Vanishing it with a tap of her wand. “I have ordered tea for us, and additional potions will be arriving shortly. If you would care to join me?” She motioned towards the settee that served as a bed for spouses, parents, and significant others when they were required to stay. “It looks as though you need it, frankly.”

Draco smirked slightly to himself, too tired to argue the point. Reaching for Scorpius’ wrist once more, he replied, “Tea would be greatly appreciated, but I’ll stay here. Scorpius still needs me.” He was stopped by Hermione’s hand on his arm.

“Scorpius is stable for the moment, and you will not be able to help him at all if you deplete your own reserves.” Realising she still restrained Malfoy’s arm, Hermione let go but continued. “You need a break and nourishment. I need to examine you as well for any negative effects from the virus, primarily magical depletion. We will only be over here. You’ll be able to see Scorpius the entire time.”

Draco was tempted to refuse still, but the appearance of the heavily loaded tea tray upon the low table in front of the settee and the comforting aroma of hot tea prompted a rather embarrassing growl from his stomach. He silently conceded Hermione’s point and moved over to the settee.

Hermione graciously hid her smile and refrained from voicing the ‘I told you so’ that came to her mind. Instead, she cast her spells, letting the scans run as she seated herself. Reaching to pour out the tea, she motioned for Malfoy to help himself to whatever he liked from the tray.

Silence fell between them, but it was not the tense, unpleasant silence Hermione had expected. Sipping her tea, she studied Malfoy, allowing him to eat and drink his fill before continuing her interview. She could see faint traces of the sneering proud boy she had known during school, but the concerned and obviously loving father overrode those traits with ease. It proved simple to let the past remain in the past so she could focus on helping Scorpius and Draco. Might as well start using his name, she thought, they would be seeing a lot of each other. Hermione caught Draco’s attention as her scans finished, and she jotted some more notes.

“What is the verdict?”

“As expected, you have been exposed to the virus but you are not ill,” she answered. “You were properly inoculated as a child, no doubt.” Draco nodded while Hermione continued. “Your core is depleted but not at a dangerous level. You do need some sleep and we’ll work on that soon. But essentially, you’re fine. I will have a few potions to help you sent along.” 

Another note was dispatched hastily before she spoke again. “I need some additional information in order to proceed with Scorpius’ treatment.”

Draco stiffened slightly but replied readily enough, “What do you need to know?”

“First, I presume that Scorpius has not had his vaccinations. At least not for this virus.” 

“He only turned six two weeks ago, and we returned to England barely a week ago. With all of the moving preparations, I had not found the time to see to his most recent round of potions.” Draco swore under his breath, shaking his head with a slight growl. “I should never have brought him back here! If we had stayed in France, he would still be fine!”

“That is not necessarily true. There are no outbreaks in all of Great Britain at the moment. The virus takes at least fourteen days to incubate before symptoms begin to show, so Scorpius could have been exposed weeks ago. Stop blaming yourself and focus on what we need to do for your son.” 

They were interrupted by another healer entering with a tray of potion vials. Hermione rose to confer briefly, selecting several potions vials. Draco watched the healer begin to spell potions into Scorpius, only focusing on the conversation at hand when Hermione cleared her throat. 

“We have a ways to go still before Scorpius is out of the woods. This is a Pepper-Up Potion and the Draught of Fortitude for you.” Hermione held out her hand, and Draco dutifully took the potions, swallowing them down with his cooling tea. It did not escape his notice that she held a third.

“And that one?”

“This is a basic Sleeping Draught. I realise I can not force you to sleep, much as you need it. But even a small nap will do a world of good. Just a few drops will help you have a restful nap without putting you out all night.” She smiled at the stubborn expression on Draco’s face. “I am going to leave it here for when you need it. No parent can go forever without rest, especially when dealing with a sick child and this virus in particular.” Draco said nothing, so she continued with the interview.

“Speaking of parents, will I see your...ah...Scorpius’...uhm...the other parent.” She flushed lightly over her stammering, but she had no idea what the actual family dynamic was. She had interviewed hundreds of parents before, but Draco was a different case entirely. Personal was not something one did with a Malfoy.

“He doesn’t have another parent, just me. My mother and Severus both help me care for him so that I can maintain the work I need to do for the estate.”

The answer was succinct and terse. Hermione was immediately suspicious. “Then perhaps, you should tell me how Scorpius came to be. When we were at school, everyone was under the impression that your marriage to Astoria Greengrass had already been arranged. Now, you are here as an apparently single father to a son you have borne yourself and denying the existence of another parent. I am understandably confused.”

Draco only seemed to withdraw more, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest. “I am in no mood to provide you with idle gossip to spill to all your friends.” 

Hermione forced herself to take a slow deep breath before she replied. She reminded herself that Draco was a father frightened for his child. Still, her voice came out strained. “I am a professional, Mr Malfoy. I am asking these questions to help your son. To preserve his very nature as a wizard, his magic. I am not in the habit of collecting random gossip to share down at the pub.” 

She rose to her feet and turned towards the door. “Scorpius is stable for now, and you need sleep. Please refrain from touching him again until after you have done so. You may send word if you decide to be more cooperative with your son’s care. In the meantime, I shall bid you good day.” 

Her hand was on the doorknob before Draco brought himself to speak. “Wait.” 

Hermione paused but did not turn around. 

“I...I’m sorry. You know how things were...before. Things were even worse after the war for a time and...well, I guess old habits die hard. I know Scorpius...we need your help. I will do the best I can.”

Hermione turned at last, studying Draco’s expression before returning to the settee and resuming her seat. “Apology accepted. Now, the information, if you please.”

Draco took a moment, pouring a fresh cup of tea while he gathered his thoughts. Taking up his teacup, he began to speak. “You were correct. My marriage had been _arranged_ , regardless of the fact that I much prefer the company of men to that of women.”

Hermione quickly schooled her features to not betray her surprise. _That_ certainly did not appear to be common knowledge in wizarding circles, at least not the ones she travelled in.

Draco noticed anyway and smirked. “It was not a well-known fact when we were in school. Not beyond a few close friends within Slytherin house, at least. Since the war, we have resided primarily in France so this fact would still not be largely known. Nevertheless, that is the crux of how Scorpius came to be. After the turmoil of the war and its aftermath, I simply could not see the point of spending the rest of my life in a loveless marriage. I thought, even I deserved some modicum of happiness.

“Father was gone and I became head of the family, such as it was at that point. I called off the marriage and moved to France with mother to consider my options. The only requirement that was magically non-negotiable as heir was the production of a blood heir of my own for the family line and its magic. Male pregnancies were not unheard of, merely risky. Severus came to live with us during his recovery but even with his help it would have been a lot to gamble on.

“When news of the breakthroughs in fertility reached us, it became a much more feasible option. To conceive and carry my own heir. To create my own family. I used the services of a private clinic here in London and Severus oversaw my care in France. The birth was attended only by my mother, Severus, and a couple of our most loyal house-elves but everything was documented properly to fulfil the legal and magical requirements of the family. And that brings us to now. Business interests have required me to return to England. I don’t know what more you need to know.”

Hermione huffed out the breath she had been holding. “Goodness!” 

Draco’s eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Not that I haven’t dealt with plenty of parents in similar situations,” Hermione quickly explained. “It’s just that...well, it’s _you_. You certainly have changed.”

A small smile graced Draco’s lips. “For Scorpius’ sake, I hope the change is for the better.”

Hermione returned the smile. “I’d say you are off to a good start. Now, is there anything else you can tell me about the other parent...the donor? Was it an acquaintance or anonymous?”

“Anonymous. He was a pureblood though, that was paramount.” He saw Hermione’s frown and clarified. “It was not a matter of politics or belief, I assure you. The Malfoy family magic would only recognise a pureblood as heir; therefore, I had to procure a pureblood donor. The clinic partners with the fertility department here at St Mungo’s and the pureblood status was verified before conception. That is all I can tell you.”

“That is more than sufficient. With your permission, we can track down the donor by magical signature alone. Scorpius will need support from both of you during his recovery, most likely in shifts.”

Draco was incredulous. “You expect some stranger to sacrifice their time and magic to assist a child they know nothing about?”

“Oh yes!” Hermione chirped happily. “There is a clause in the donor agreement for just such a scenario of extreme magical need and it is binding. The donor cannot refuse to help without severe consequences.” 

She reached out, patting Draco on the shoulder. “Now, eat whatever you like and take that nap. I suggest using as little magic as possible for the foreseeable future as well. I will get to work on this, and with luck, I will be back with the donor by dinnertime.”

Draco opened his mouth to speak but Hermione interrupted. “Oh! I’ll be needing your permission.” 

With a flick of her wand, a parchment appeared in her hand. She handed it over for Draco to read and, after his nod of assent, she uttered the spell that allowed a drop of blood to well up from his finger and drop onto the parchment. Draco’s signature appeared as the paper absorbed his blood. Hermione was on her feet as soon as the signature finished.

“Thank you.” It came out softer than Draco would have liked but the sentiment was genuine, as was the reply.

“You are welcome, Draco.” Then she was gone.

Draco rose to check on Scorpius but, heeding Hermione’s instructions, he merely brushed Scorpius’ blond fringe from his pale brow and placed a small kiss there before retreating. 

The isolation room had its own toilet so Draco took a moment to relieve himself and splash some water on his face before returning to the settee. He groaned at the luxurious feeling of stretching out after being up for two days with Scorpius, the settee magically expanding on its own to accommodate the body it supported. Draco found himself drifting off far more easily than he expected, the glimmer of hope Hermione offered soothing his fears at last.

{*} {*} {*}

Hermione paused outside the shop, glancing up at the sign. She could hardly believe she was about to do this, that her search had led her here. She wrung her hands for the hundredth time. _This was all her fault. She had talked him into it after all… “For the future of wizarding kind,” she had said. Now he was never going to forgive her_. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. Time to break the news to her best friend that he was a father...more or less.

“Well if it isn’t the most intelligent witch I know!” Fred exclaimed as she approached the front counter.

“Smart enough not to marry Ron at any rate.” George emerged from the back with the uncanny timing one came to expect with the twins.

“It didn’t require intelligence not to marry Ron when he’s gay you dolts. We would have made a sorry pair indeed.” She gave them a joint hug as the gentle ribbing continued.

“Ah. Well, you may be right at that. But George is still available. He’s bi,” Fred whispered loudly with a conspiratory wink and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sorry to shatter your dreams but I’m taken. You’re too late again,” George quipped.

“What! Since when?” Fred nearly yelled in surprise and affront.

“Lunchtime. The waitress at Fortescue’s has the hots for me. She’s the one mate. I can tell.” George’s eyebrows waggled suggestively.

“Oh. Right. I suppose the clerk at Madame Malkin’s last week wasn’t the one then?” Fred queried with a snort.

“Or the secretary at the Ministry the month before,” Hermione offered, trying her best to curb her laughter.

“Gits! The both of you. A bloke likes to play the field and what does that get him? Nothing but harassment from his loved ones.” George disappeared again with a sniff, setting Hermione off.

Fred merely shrugged. “Well, I appear to be fresh out of Weasleys for you to marry then. Perhaps we should just adopt you.”

Hermione wiped her eyes, smiling at Fred. “I appreciate the thought but, it is what it is, we must persevere.” Fred appeared to resign himself to this fact with another shrug as Hermione continued. “I do need to speak to Ron though. Is he free?”

“He’s always free for you and you know it. He’s stocking new inventory in the back storeroom. Just go on through. You know where.”

Hermione raised up on her toes to give Fred a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” she offered as she slipped by shaking her head when Fred slapped a hand to his cheek and pretended to faint across the counter.

Hermione followed a series of thumps, random mutterings, and the occasional swear word until she reached the storeroom where Ron was working. He always hated dealing with the inventory. Hermione paused in the doorway watching him. Ron had certainly filled out well over the past few years. Tall and well-muscled, he cut quite a nice figure in his Muggle jeans, a much loved Christmas gift from Harry. Hermione couldn’t deny he was attractive and found a certain part of her mind wondering what Draco would think when he saw him. She must have groaned out loud at the thought because Ron turned around suddenly.

“Hiya ‘Mione. What’s up?” Ron dusted his hands off on his jeans as he approached. He gave her a hug once he reached her and glanced at her work robes. “Is there a problem? You rarely leave St Mungo’s in the middle of a workday.”

“Yes and no. I guess it depends on your point of view. Can we sit down somewhere and talk?”

“Sure. I’m due for a break anyway.” Ron led them through the back of the store and upstairs to the flat the brothers now shared.

Hermione took a seat at the small kitchen table while Ron grabbed a drink and set about making a sandwich. She still hadn’t decided how to start this conversation. How could she possibly break this to Ron gently...or Malfoy for that matter. _Sweet Merlin! There was no way this would go well_. She hardly noticed the napkin she was slowly shredding or the fact that Ron now sat across from her eating.

“Looks serious. You gonna tell me what’s up or shred another napkin?”

Startled from her thoughts, Hermione blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Malfoy has a son.”

Ron paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Seriously? I feel sorry for the kid then.” He continued eating his food, unperturbed by this bit of news.

“Honestly, Ron! Could you at least pretend to be mature? Malfoy has certainly grown up, unlike _some_ of us. His son is very sick and I need your help.”

Ron gaped around his partially chewed food. “My help? What in the world for? Does the kid need some jokes to feel better? I mean, I could totally understand if that were the case. Malfoy never did have much of a sense of humour. He must be a real pain as a father having Lucius as an example.”

Ron rambled on, spouting the same old anti-Malfoy vitriol. 

There was no help for it Hermione decided. 

“You’re his father.”

Silence fell mercifully, as did the sandwich, missing the plate entirely to tumble over the edge of the table onto the floor. 

Ron stared blankly ahead, trying to process what he had heard. Eventually he swallowed, coughed roughly, and reached for his drink as he croaked out, “What?”

Hermione took a deep breath. This was going to take a while.

{*} {*} {*}

It was actually after dinner time before they finally entered St Mungo’s. Hermione had to explain the situation three separate times answering Ron’s questions repeatedly until he had worked through his anger and denial to reach some level of grudging acceptance. Now he shifted beside her as they approached the isolation ward, rearranging the knapsack on his shoulder self-consciously.

As they passed the Healer’s desk, Hermione Summoned two potions with a wave of her wand. She tucked one into her pocket and handed the other to Ron. “Drink that.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a Calming Draught. The other one is for Malfoy.”

“I’m fine. I’m sure I can manage to behave myself without a potion. Malfoy, on the other hand, probably needs all the help he can get.”

Hermione stepped into Ron’s personal space and glared at him until he squirmed uncomfortably. “You will both take the potion for Scorpius’ sake and keep taking it for as long as I think it is necessary. He is a sick little boy who doesn’t need the two of you at each other’s throats reenacting a stupid schoolboy rivalry. You are going to have to spend a great deal of time together for at least the next week, if not longer, and I won’t have you hindering Scorpius’ recovery. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. Perfectly.” Honestly, he thought Hermione had been taking lessons from his mum and Ginny. He uncorked the vial and downed the potion in one gulp.

“Thank you. Now, wait here until I come back out for you.”

Ron sat dutifully on the bench in the hallway as Hermione charmed herself and disappeared into the room behind the red shimmer.

{*} {*} {*}

Draco was back on sentry duty in a chair beside the bed when Hermione entered. 

“I told you to get some sleep,” she scolded.

“And I followed your instructions, Healer Granger.” Draco’s smile was less forced than earlier. “I managed two full hours of sleep and feel very much refreshed. Dinner didn’t hurt either. Thank you for arranging that.”

“Well, you do look better; your colouring has improved. You are welcome, of course. I take care of my patients to the best of my ability and that often includes their family.”

Draco rose from his seat and stepped away from the bed. Pitching his voice lower, he asked, “So were you able to find him? Will he help?”

Hermione nodded, treading carefully. “Yes... I found him. Bit of a surprise understandably, but he will help. He is waiting outside.”

“How was it a surprise? The donation was voluntary was it not?”

“Oh no! I mean yes. The donation was voluntary. It was just a surprise to him, knowing his offering had produced a child. The clinic is not required to notify the donors when their contributions are used… or _by whom_.” Hermione glanced meaningfully at Draco on the last, hoping he might get the idea.

Draco always had been smart, he took a breath and let it out slowly. 

“Is the donor someone I know?” 

Hermione merely nodded solemnly. 

“I understand. I was prepared for that possibility. Purebloods are a smaller portion of the population these days. I am prepared to accept whatever...whomever Scorpius requires.”

“Even if there may have been animosity in the past?”

Draco pursed his lips but nodded. “I will assume that you haven’t brought a Death Eater to the door so I think I can handle anyone else. If they are willing to ignore the past to help Scorpius, then I must be willing to do the same. We were all young and foolish once, right?”

“Exactly. Now, this is for you.” Draco accepted the vial but looked askance.

“A Calming Draught,” she explained. “I gave him one as well; I am taking no chances. I expect the two of you to behave like gentlemen for Scorpius’ sake.”

Draco downed the potion. “Well, one of us certainly will,” he muttered under his breath.  
Taking a position beside the bed, Draco stood behind his chair to greet the newcomer, purposely using the chair as a buffer. There was no etiquette for meeting the unknown man whose sperm you were impregnated with but he was a Malfoy. He could handle any situation with grace and aplomb. Or so he thought. Until he saw Ronald Weasley entering the room behind Hermione.

“Are you…” Draco glanced quickly at Scorpius and forced his voice lower. “Are you having me on?” he hissed. “Weasley can’t be the donor!”

Hermione motioned Ron to the chair on the opposite side of the bed as she spoke. “I am not having you on. The blood and magical signatures match exactly. There is no doubt that he fathered Scorpius.”

Colour drained from Draco’s face and he gripped the back of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. “ _I_ am Scorpius’ father!” he forced out through gritted teeth

Hermione had adopted her best matron’s manner, rivalling even Madame Pomfrey. She placed her hand on Draco’s shoulder, pushing him until he rounded the chair then pressing down firmly, encouraging him to sit. “You know what I mean.”

Not releasing Draco, she turned to encourage Ron. “Go ahead. You only need to touch his skin to share the magic he needs.”

Ron placed his bag on the floor and scooted closer to the bed. He couldn’t keep from studying the boy’s face looking for some part of himself as he reached for Scorpius’ small hand.

Draco flinched, moving as though to stop him, only to be faced with the tip of Hermione’s wand. “He is here to help and I expect the cooperation you agreed to.”

Ron met Malfoy’s eyes in challenge as he clasped the small hand between his palms, his large hands swallowing the entire extremity. The warm flush of magic between them was immediate and visible to all in the room as a small sigh escaped Scorpius’ lips.

Hermione nodded, addressing both of them but not lowering her wand just yet. “Sympathetic nervous system response to paternal magic. That’s very good. Scorpius’ magic recognises and accepts Ron’s. With the both of you, Scorpius will make a much faster recovery.”

Draco still wanted to protest somehow, but he had seen the proof with his own eyes. In his wildest imaginings he could not have foreseen Weasley as the man who gave him Scorpius. He had the sudden and distinct impression of his father rolling over in his grave and shook his head sharply to remove it. He supposed the fates were having quite a laugh at his expense and wondered what his mother would have to say. Or Severus. There was nothing for it; however, Scorpius needed this. Draco met Weasley’s eyes then turned to meet Granger’s stern gaze. A sharp nod of his head was enough to get her to lower her wand.

“Excellent. You can both share with Scorpius at the same time but only for short periods of time, thirty to forty-five minutes at the most. I don’t want either of you to become exhausted so you will primarily be providing support in shifts. You will each need adequate periods of rest, at least a few hours at a time, so alternating allows for this. Draco, you should take the first rest period as you have been sharing your core longer. Ron will be fine until later. I can’t allow you out of quarantine yet but, once Scorpius has passed the most critical point, we can make other arrangements for the remainder of his recovery.”

Draco was still trying to grasp the newness of his current situation and doing his best not to stare at the one-time nemesis now holding his son’s hand. No. _Their son_ , apparently. One really couldn’t argue with magic. He did manage to voice a request as he thought of his family. 

“May I contact my mother and Severus? They should know what is happening and won’t forgive me if I fail to notify them.”

“Of course. I will arrange for some parchment and ink to be sent in with Scorpius’ next doses. I will even include a copy of the treatment plan and list of potions since I recall how thorough Professor Snape can be. I expect he will review everything and likely have suggestions to make as well.” She chuckled to herself, knowing the truth of her words. “I shall welcome any input he has to offer.” 

She lifted her chin towards the bed, encouraging Draco. “You can go ahead. I’d rather you both share this first time while I am monitoring for any issues. Then you can get some more sleep.”

Draco leaned forward immediately, clasping Scorpius’ free hand in his own and reaching to brush the back of his hand over Scorpius’ pale, clammy brow. He was heartened by the familiar glimmer of a smile pulling at the corner of Scorpius’ mouth, soon finding one tugging at his own lips. He was startled, however, by the flush of magic that extended to include him. Different from when he shared with Scorpius alone, it could only be Weasley’s magic he was feeling. It hadn’t occurred to him that sharing their magic with Scorpius simultaneously meant Weasley’s magic would blend with his own and vice versa. It was decidedly intimate but not uncomfortable. In fact, Draco felt a familiar warmth that reminded him so strongly of home and family that he felt a sudden wave of homesickness. He wanted to pull away, to escape this feeling, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t give Weasley the satisfaction of chasing him away from his son.

Draco felt the weight of Weasley’s stare and glanced up, meeting the gaze of startling blue eyes. His breath hitched slightly when he realised they were Scorpius’ eyes. Draco was conscious of his own heart beating faster and a strange sensation beneath his breastbone as he stared into those eyes, so familiar yet in a different face. He forced himself to look away and only focus on Scorpius, the entire situation becoming quite surreal.

*****

Ron watched Malfoy for a moment longer then glanced at Hermione. She merely shrugged and continued to watch her scans. 

He reached into his bag and pulled out the latest issue of _Quidditch Today_. Settling back in his chair, he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee and draped the magazine over his lap. Content to read, he turned pages with one hand while the other held Scorpius’ hand firmly.

Forty-five minutes later, Malfoy was nodding off in his chair and Hermione was coaxing him to the settee for some sleep, making certain he had a Tempus alarm set appropriately. Malfoy gave Ron and Scorpius one long look, then lay down, stretching out and turning his back to the room.

Hermione dimmed the lights for the night and Transfigured Ron’s chair into a plush lounger so he would be more comfortable. “So far, so good, right?”

“As well as can be expected I suppose.” Ron shot a glance at Malfoy’s back and then over at Scorpius. “He looks nothing like me. He’s all Malfoy.”

“Looks are hardly the only thing we get from our parents.” Hermione smiled at Ron. He really was handling the whole thing well. “Does it really matter though? You’re here for him regardless.”

Ron looked at Scorpius again. He was such a small looking lump in the bed: tousled blond hair and alabaster skin, so like his father except for the flush to his cheeks and the soft pink of his lips. “No. It doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t think so. You’re a good man, Ronald Weasley. Scorpius is coming along as well as expected. He may even be strong enough to wake on his own by tomorrow. I’m going to go now but I’ll just be sleeping in my office. I like to stay close for my more serious cases.”

“Sure. Nevermind you’re just itching for an excuse to hex Malfoy,” Ron teased.

“I am not!” Hermione chided in a loud whisper. “I’d be hexing you before I hex him because you should know better. You just keep that in mind before you cause any trouble.” She had one hand on her hip and the other waving her wand pointedly at Ron.

Ron fought the laughter that bubbled up, easing the tension he had felt since arriving here. “I’ll be good. I promise. Go get some rest and I’ll see you later.”

She was gone a moment later, leaving Ron alone except for his silent companions. He found himself unconsciously tucking the covers in around Scorpius, humming under his breath as he did. There was the softest pulse of magic from the sleeping boy in response to his actions so Ron continued to hum, a lullaby he was certain his mum had often sung when they were sick as children. He wasn’t even sure if he remembered it correctly, but he’d try anything that seemed to help.

*****

Across the room, in the shadows, Draco smiled to himself as Weasley hummed. While Granger and Weasley would never have been his first choices to help his son, he was confident that Scorpius was in good hands. Finally, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

{*} {*} {*}

Ron was dozing lightly in his chair when a soft gasp and the twitch of the hand inside of his own woke him. He blinked blearily and turned towards the bed. He was met with a pair of wide eyes, the purest shade of blue he had only ever seen in the mirror. He smiled softly, whispering so as not to startle the boy. “You’re okay. You’ve been very sick and your dad brought you to the hospital. He’s just over there sleeping.”

Scorpius seemed hesitant to take his eyes off of Ron but finally looked over to see Malfoy stretched out on the settee. 

It was early morning now and Malfoy and he had already exchanged places twice as they shared in Scorpius’ magical care. Not that they had actually spoken, merely shared a nod of acknowledgement as they changed seat.

“Are you a troll?” The question came out softly but Scorpius stared at Ron unflinchingly waiting for the answer.

Ron snorted softly. “Well, I suppose that might depend on whom you ask but generally, no. I’m a wizard, just like you.”

Scorpius blinked and narrowed his eyes slightly. “Are you sure? Papa says that trolls are big and have ginger hair.” 

Ron smiled, noting at the child’s apparent lack of fear. He was laying odds on Gryffindor when the boy faced the Sorting Hat. “I am quite sure. Trolls can’t do magic and I can. So there.” 

Scorpius still looked sceptical, so Ron pulled out his wand, transfiguring the cup on the nightstand into an animated toy dragon. Ron was more conscious of the magical drain of the spell than he would normally be, but Scorpius smiled at last, pulling his hand from Ron’s to clap and take the dragon for a closer inspection.

Ron had to admit the child was rather endearing so far. “You know, your father will be very happy that you are awake. Shall I tell him?”

“I can do it.” Scorpius called out before Ron could move. “Papa? Papa! I’m awake.”

Ron had to give him credit. Malfoy stirred with the first ‘Papa’ and was sitting up by the second. He was beside the bed and wrapping his arms around the boy almost before the words had finished leaving his lips.

“I see you are, my love. I am so happy to see you.” Malfoy pulled back to look Scorpius in the eyes. “You had me worried, you know. You’ve been so very sick and I haven’t seen those beautiful eyes for two whole days, nearly three.”

“I am sorry, Papa. I didn’t mean to.” Scorpius snuggled more closely into Malfoy’s side and Malfoy merely tightened his hold.

“It’s alright. You are getting better now. The healers are helping and we will soon be back home. I imagine Grandmother and Uncle Sev will be paying a visit as soon as they get the news too.”

Scorpius looked over at Ron then back up at his father. Pointing he asked, “Is he a healer? He said he was a wizard but he might be a troll.” Scorpius pointed meaningfully at Ron’s hair and mouthed _ginger_ at his father.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth but Malfoy froze, never having considered what he should say to Scorpius about Ron. Surprisingly, Ron supplied an answer.

“I’m a friend...who happens to be a ginger. I’ve been helping here and there so your papa can rest.”

Scorpius’ face brightened in realisation. “Oh! Are you one of Papa’s special friends? I don’t get to meet many of them but Papa dresses nice and goes out to meet them sometimes.”

Ron’s eyes cut to Malfoy’s face, noting the faint blush creeping over his chiselled cheeks. _Interesting_. Ron wasn’t phased by Scorpius’ comments about his father’s dating habits but he was intrigued that Scorpius seemed certain that his father’s _friends_ were men. He smirked as though to say ‘this one is all yours mate’ and looked expectantly at him.

Malfoy cleared his throat. “No, dear. Mr Weas… _Ron_ is a different type of friend...from when Papa was at school.” He glared at Ron, daring him to say differently. Ron just shrugged.

“You mean he went to Hogwarts with you!” 

When Draco nodded, Scorpius practically spun around in the bed excitement clear on his little face. “Do you know Harry Potter?”

Ron actually laughed out loud. “Do I know Harry Potter?” The affirmative was on his lips when he caught Malfoy’s pleading expression and slight shake of his head. He didn’t understand but Malfoy must have a reason for wanting to withhold the information. Ron stalled, at least until he understood the reason. “I...well, I...that is to say…”

“Well what do we have here?” Hermione’s arrival prompted one look of disappointment and two of relief. She looked at all of them oddly before smiling at Scorpius. “My spell alerted me that you were awake. No better time than the present to examine you then.” Hermione moved over to the bed, introducing herself to Scorpius and drawing her wand to begin the scans. Meanwhile Ron and Draco moved off to the side to let her work.

“I appreciate you not saying anything just yet.” 

Malfoy didn’t look directly at him but Ron knew the words were for him. “No problem I guess, but why do you not want Scorpius to know about Harry? For that matter, why didn’t he recognise either Hermione or me right off. I mean, whether we like it or not, we’re flipping famous.”

“We have kept Scorpius fairly sheltered in France. Avoided the news and such. You can’t blame me for not wanting my child to know the truth about his father and grandfather. He doesn’t recognize you because we’ve shown him no pictures, no articles, no books, nothing.”

“How does he know about Harry at all then?” Ron didn’t necessarily approve of withholding information but he could understand his motives.

Draco scowled briefly. “While we are diligent our house elves are not. One of the elves who works in the nursery is quite a fan and she used to tell Scorpius bedtime stories about the ‘Great Harry Potter’ and his defeat of Voldemort. Scorpius has littered the house with drawings since he could hold a crayon.”

“That must be quite the hardship for you, huh? Your son worshipping your old rival.”

“All little boys have their heroes. I don’t mind that. I simply want to minimise the trauma that the truth could cause...at least while he is so young.” Draco’s voice was quiet, his concern clear.

“You’ll have to tell him before he goes to Hogwarts,” Ron offered.

“I could send him to Beauxbatons,” Draco replied.

“You really want your son going anywhere but Hogwarts? I thought the Malfoy’s were all about tradition. It would only be slightly better there anyway. It’s part of wizarding history now. Sooner or later he will be taught or told. He would still need to know.”

“I agree...but for now?” Draco implored.

“For now, I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” Draco offered his hand and Ron took it after hesitating briefly.

Ron was still attuned to Draco’s magic and the feel of it stole his breath. He had felt it last night when Draco had joined him in helping Scorpius. Draco’s magic was the crisp sensation of an autumn breeze, the splash of cool water in the summer, or fresh snow filling the air. It made Ron think of the air against his face when he flew and reminded him of the swooping freedom he felt on a broom. Draco’s magic made him feel alive and he really didn’t want to examine that feeling too closely. He ended the handshake as quickly as he could.

Hermione summoned them back over. 

“You will be happy to know that Scorpius’ core is at fifty percent and rising. The fever has broken so the most dangerous phase of the virus has ended. We’ve only the recovery left. I think that once he reaches seventy-five percent we can allow his recovery to continue at home. Now, despite it being four in the morning, young Master Scorpius wants breakfast. I shall go and see about that and you might as well have your joint sharing time now as I expect he will sleep again after a meal and his potions.”

They returned to their respective seats beside the bed and took a hand each. Scorpius gasped, being conscious of the combined magic for the first time. He turned a brilliant smile on Ron. “Your magic feels nice. It reminds me of Grandmother, all warm and homey. Is that why Papa asked you to help?”

Ron’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked to Draco, having no idea what to say.

Draco appeared to understand, the response coming immediately to Ron’s unanswered question. “Scorpius is particularly sensitive to magic, auras and energies, even traces of magic in many case. Severus says it is a rare gift. I forget sometimes since we live with him.” Draco turned to Scorpius, “Yes. That is why I asked him to help, to speed your healing.”

Scorpius screwed up his little face. “Papa, you are not being completely truthful.”

Draco smiled ruefully and motioned at their joined hands, addressing his remarks to Ron. “You have to be careful when you’re touching. He can sense practically everything.”

Ron huffed softly. “He and Luna would get on like two peas in a pod.”

Draco grimaced in horror. “Merlin forbid!” Quickly rearranging his face, he smiled at Scorpius. “You must remember what we’ve said about announcing things in public Scorpius. Papa may not have been completely truthful but that is all a certain six year old needs to know at this point. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Papa. I’ll remember.” They were spared from further uncomfortable revelations by the arrival of breakfast. Scorpius clapping merrily at the pancakes with fruit, eggs, and bacon, along with juice and milk.

Ron hummed at the savory aromas, “Where’s mine?!” Hermione laughed as a second tray appeared.

“You’re so predictable.” She motioned a third tray forward for Draco. “If you prefer something different just let me know. Scorpius ordered for everyone.”

Draco assured her the meal was fine but expressed concern for Scorpius. “Isn’t this all a bit heavy for him so soon after his fever?”

“He’s had no nausea and hasn’t eaten for over two days. He can have anything he wants right now because his body will use all of it. We will be watching though. If he has any difficulty with this meal then we will modify the next one.

“Enjoy your meal gentlemen. I’ll check in after morning rounds.” Then Hermione left them alone.

Ron noticed that, even though none of them said anything, they arranged their trays to continue their group sharing. Scorpius’ tray sat on his lap and both Ron and Draco had rested their trays on the bed beside his thighs. Ron continued to hold one hand but Draco moved his hand to Scorpius’ side just beneath the edge of his pajama top. In this way they could all eat and continue to share their magic. Despite seeming awkward, Ron felt disturbingly content. He tried not to think about the possible reasons why that was and Scorpius simply smiled.

{*} {*} {*}

Scorpius improved as the day wore on, soon making it difficult to maintain their shared magic for any length of time. The boy proved to be both intelligent and insightful with a nearly insatiable curiosity. Ron could see why Draco needed both Mrs. Malfoy and Snape to help raise the inquisitive child. Draco seemed to know what to say and how to redirect him, but Ron had been subjected to a virtual interrogation on the joke shop, his likes and dislikes, his family, life in general, and Quidditch. And there they found their passions colliding. Ron answered questions until his mouth was dry then handed over his copy of Quidditch Today. He wasn’t even sure if the boy could read but it kept him occupied for more than five minutes. Hermione assured them that Scorpius would tire again and they were both waiting for that time as they had had to give up on rest periods for the time being.

It was late afternoon before Scorpius began to flag while Draco and Ron were strung out on Pepper-Up potions, tea, and coffee. Draco curled up on the small bed with Scorpius while Ron took to the settee. They all needed rest.

“Papa, will you tell me a story?”

“Which one would you like? A short one though, you need your rest.” 

Scorpius laughed, a light airy sound that was all too knowing for a boy his age. “You mean your rest don’t you Papa?”

“Yes love. I do. Now which story?”

Ron listened to it all in silent amusement, happy to have a reprieve himself.

“Tell me the one about the Prince in search of his family.”

Ron heard Draco sigh softly before the story began.

“Once there was a handsome prince who had a grand home and even a little prince all his own. But he had no one to share the home and the little prince with, no one to make them a complete family…”

“Except they were a family, right? Just as they were?”

“Yes, Scorpius. They were a small family all their own. Settle down, you’re supposed to be going to sleep. Where was I? Oh yes...the prince wanted someone special to add to their family. Someone who would love both him and the little prince with all their hearts. He searched and searched but it proved difficult to find the right person. You see, in all the land none of the princesses appealed to him. Too much perfume and frills and stuff for his tastes. He found that only other princes interested him and the search grew even more difficult. Some princes already had families of their own. Some were not interested in another prince. Others liked him just fine, but they wanted no part of the little prince in their lives…”

“And the prince didn’t like that, did he Papa?”

“No. He did not like that at all and he sent those hateful princes on their way. Several years went by, the little prince grew older and the prince himself despaired of ever finding just the right person. Until one day, a mysterious King arrived at the castle from a far away land. He was handsome and strong and he loved little princes. He had been on his own long quest to find a family to call his own. The King proved to be kind and gentle; in no time the two royals had fallen in love. Most importantly, the King and the little prince loved each other and it was the little prince he asked for permission to marry his father. Soon they were married and became a proper family, all of the fruitless searching at an end. In time there were new little princes and even a little princess or two added to their family and they were happy together forevermore.”

Ron heard the small kiss Draco placed on Scorpius’ brow.

“Now, off to sleep.”

“Yes Papa.”

There was silence at last and Ron felt himself beginning to drift off when Scorpius’ small voice drifted across the room, almost a whisper.

“Papa, can Ron be our King?”

Ron was suddenly wide awake, feeling as though he was clinging to the edge of the settee to keep from falling off as he waited to hear what Draco might say. The minutes dragged by and Ron thought Draco was either ignoring the question or had fallen asleep. But finally a reply came.

“I don’t think Ron could like Papa that way. We weren’t always very nice to each other when we were younger. Not even friends you see.”

Ron heard a soft “Oh” from Scorpius then all was quiet once more. He waited for long minutes but all he heard was Draco’s steady breathing. He was almost asleep when he heard Scorpius whisper again.

“You’re wrong, Papa.”

There were no more comments after that but Ron lay awake for some time contemplating what Scorpius had meant. Could he like Draco given their checkered past? Did he? He couldn’t deny that he had looked, more than a few times even. Draco was always bloody good looking but he had matured into a striking man. His features, while still angular, had filled out so as not to be so pinched and severe looking. He had maintained the lean toned physique obtained from Quidditch, striking quite a figure in his clothes. Ron could even admit to ogling Draco’s arse a few times. He considered the fact that he wasn’t even seeing Draco at his best, shut in with a sick child for days. He thought about the man he had seen since he arrived here, caring for his child, the tenderness and love he showed. It was so unlike the Draco he had known before. Obviously Draco had managed to become his own man once he was free from the shadow of his father and Voldemort. But was it enough to interest Ron beyond helping Scorpius? Much to his surprise, Ron found that it was. He was interested in the man Draco had become, not just getting him out of his trousers and naked in his bed. That alone was a novel thought. He had seldom wanted much beyond the next shag but with Draco and Scorpius he was beginning to see the appeal of time spent getting to know someone. Was it simply because Scorpius was partially his, at least genetically speaking. Ron couldn’t be sure but he thought it was more than that. He enjoyed Scorpius and wanted to spend more time with him. For the first time, Ron wondered what would happen when Scorpius was fully recovered and they no longer needed him. The thought caused a dull ache in his chest and he fell asleep debating what he should do.

{*} {*} {*}

Waking up from a nap with an erection could be inconvenient at any time, however, waking up with one while the cause was only a few feet away and not actually your lover was downright embarrassing. Draco couldn’t exactly help it though. Scorpius’ innocent question had the unexpected side effect of casting Ron as the starring character in Draco’s dreams which took an unusual turn for the carnal. Determined to ignore it until it went away Draco still had to relieve himself. He made sure that Ron appeared to be sleeping before he slid quietly out of bed, leaving Scorpius still sleeping soundly as well. He crept into the toilet and closed the door, taking his time with the necessities. He washed up, planning to return to the bed for a bit more sleep if possible.

He would have done that too, were he not arrested by the sight of a certain redhead splayed out on the settee. One arm hung off of the sofa and the other was flung back over Ron’s head. The effect of which pulled his t shirt up and bared a wide swath of skin across his lower abdomen. Draco couldn’t seem to stop staring at the pale skin with it’s smattering of freckles or the fine red hairs that gathered into a trail growing thicker the further down it went. There was evidence enough of a sizeable endowment to fuel Draco’s imagination as he tried to picture what it must look like nestled in a tuft of red.

Ron snuffled in his sleep and Draco shook himself forcibly, moving away from the settee before he could be caught staring. He lay back down and turned his back to Ron, contemplating his newfound interest. He had never in his life entertained an interest in any Weasley so what had changed now. He knew the answer already; they both had changed, grown into men and away from childishness. They had survived a war and made new lives for themselves. They were different now and apparently those differences were very appealing. At least to Draco, in some respect. Of course there was Scorpius. The more they were together, the more he could see Ron in his son. He had never wondered before about what came from where or why Scorpius was this way or that but now he was continually surprised and amused at the similarities that arose. Like the identical way they both scrunched up their noses in distaste at brussel sprouts as well as the same pout they made when told they had to eat their vegetables. Draco hadn’t meant Ron when he told Scorpius that but Ron had felt he should be a good example anyway. So they both pouted and ate the sprouts. Draco smiled recalling the way Ron had made it a race so they got it over with faster. He would never encourage Scorpius to shovel food in like that but he did eat all of his sprouts and wore the biggest grin when he won the race. Draco had been obliged to cheer the victor even as he observed the way laughter made two matching sets of blue eyes sparkle.

That was only one example. Draco was noticing many, storing them away for when they were no longer all together like this. That thought caused a strange hollow feeling in the pit of Draco’s stomach. He didn’t like it, but it couldn’t really be helped either. He had no idea about Ron’s personal life, an area Scorpius had failed to explore earlier when he hit Ron with his barrage of questions. He couldn’t blame Scorpius, he was too young to care or notice such things so of course he wouldn’t ask about them. At least Ron didn’t appear to have any issues with him dating men or having birthed Scorpius. Scorpius had revealed the first and Draco assumed Hermione had filled Ron in on the latter. Draco was still puzzling over what to do, if anything, when Scorpius awoke, chasing thoughts of Ron away, for a while at least.

{*}{*}{*}

Hermione wasn’t sure who was happier when she announced the Scorpius could complete his recovery at home, Draco or Scorpius. The three had spent another night in isolation and both Ron and Draco looked a bit fagged from keeping a rambunctious boy entertained in a small space.

She addressed Draco while watching Ron demonstrating wizard chess to Scorpius on a small board he had pulled from his bag. “Will it be a problem for Ron to stay with you for a few days? Scorpius is doing so well with both of you for support that I don’t want to withdraw Ron’s magic too soon and cause a setback. I will supply you with all of the potions you may need, of course, and check in on Scorpius each day.”

“We have hardly even unpacked from our move back and I don’t have a guest room but we can make it work for a few days at least.” 

“No guest room? Whatever are you talking about? You have an entire manor unless I’m missing something,” Hermione declared.

“We have not lived in the manor since just after the war. We are letting a flat while I oversee a complete magical cleansing of the manor and grounds, as well as a remodel of the structure itself. I won’t have Scorpius in a place filled with so much darkness and remnants of dark magic. It’s all part of repairing the Malfoy name and reputation.” His expression was fiercely determined as he spoke.

“I understand.” Hermione responded. “You are, I think, a far more considerate father to Scorpius than your own was to you.” She covered her mouth with her fingers, suddenly catching herself stepping over the line of professionalism into personal territory. “I’m so sorry. I should not have said that. It is a good thing you are doing, for both of you.”

“I accept your apology but it is hardly necessary. You were only stating the truth.” Draco turned his attention back to the pair lying in the floor and smiled as Ron let Scorpius capture one of his knights; his boy clapping happily as the queen slashed the knight to bits. Something else the twosome had in common it appeared. “I’m not sure Scorpius is going to want Ron to leave, even when he feels better.”

Hermione studied the expression on Draco’s face. “And what about his father? Will he be glad to see Ron go or not.”

Draco turned to look at her, a small smile on his face. “You’ve been reading too many romance novels, Granger. That isn’t how real life works out. Not for me.” He effectively cut off any reply by stepping forward. “Alright young man, we need to get our things together so we can go home.”

Scorpius forgot the game immediately, leaping up with a squeal and running to the bed to grab the dragon Ron had made him; the only important item to the six year old. “I’m ready, Papa!”

Ron just shook his head and Draco laughed. “Okay. Ron and I need to gather our things then so we can go home.”

Scorpius gasped and ran over to Ron. “You’re coming home with us? To stay?” The excitement on his face was evident and Ron hated to dampen it in any way.

“Yes. I will stay, at least until you are a hundred percent better. Then I will have to get back to my job and my flat. I don’t think your Papa will want me underfoot forever.”

Scorpius did not appear to be saddened in the least, instead he looked positively determined. “You can stay in my room then, Papa won’t mind at all.” All three adults laughed as they got to the business of packing up and securing the potions they would need.

{*} {*} {*}

Hermione had insisted that they Floo, fearing Draco and Ron might be unable to apparate safely given the magical output they had been required to make over the past few days. She also impressed the need to limit their use of magic for the time being as well. So lunchtime found them stepping out into a cozy flat still filled with covered furniture and packed boxes.

Ron glanced around. “Where should I put my bag?”

Draco looked at the loveseat in his sitting room, perfect for him and Scorpius but hardly suitable for someone of Ron’s height or build. Since neither of them were allowed the magic required to resize the loveseat, another option was necessary. Draco finally struck on the most suitable one. “I can sleep with Scorpius and you can sleep in my bed. That makes the most sense. We can just trade places when we need to change shifts with him.”

“Uhm...okay. Right. I’ll just put this...where?” 

Before Draco could respond, Scorpius grabbed Ron’s hand, tugging him along. “I can show him Papa.” Ron followed dutifully down the short hallway, past the bathroom to the master bedroom. “Here it is!” Scorpius announced. “Plenty of room for you and Papa.” Ron opened his mouth to correct Scorpius’ assumption but the little scamp had already ran back up the hall to his own room. Ron was beginning to think the kid had a hidden agenda. Glancing around the room, he took in muted blues highlighted by creams and browns, refined but more understated than he expected for Draco. It was a room one could be comfortable in. Ron looked at the large bed dominating the room, his mind suddenly providing images of Draco sleeping amid the duvet and pillows. Just as quickly, he imagined himself in that bed with Draco, a sudden throb of more than interest from his groin sending off alarm bells. Ron dropped his bag on a chair near the door and retreated quickly from the room, closing the door on the bed as if that would stop the thoughts in his head.

Ron glanced into Scorpius’ room, watching him animatedly introducing his new dragon to his other toys. He couldn’t help but smile as he moved on towards the living area. He had never thought too much about kids but Scorpius was growing on him rather quickly. Though he was headed to the sitting room, movement from the kitchen caught his eye. Ron stopped in the doorway, trying not to gawk at what he saw. 

Draco stood at the stove apparently toasting cheese sandwiches. He had rolled up his sleeves and had a tea towel tucked in his back pocket. Ron was still reeling at the idea of Draco doing anything so domestic when the man himself turned around.

“Oh. I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry I can’t offer much more than sandwiches for lunch. I didn’t really get time to go to the market before Scorpius got sick.”

“Sandwiches are fine.” Ron took a seat at the kitchen table while Draco went to collect Scorpius. He was soon joined by the two, Scorpius racing in with his abundant energy and climbing onto the chair next to Ron while Draco took his seat at a more sedate pace. The sandwiches were divided up and they fell to their meal. Ron had yet to figure out how Scorpius managed to eat and keep up his vivacious chatter but somehow he did; and this coming from a man that grew up with five brothers. Draco smiled indulgently but occasionally curbed his son’s enthusiasm with the touch of his hand on the small arm. Scorpius would smile, stop talking and take a breath. Ron envied the shorthand communication between father and son, at times feeling as though he were an intruder in their lives. Then Scorpius would turn his beautiful smile towards him and grab his hand, intuitively drawing Ron into their small circle.

When they were finished, Ron cleared up while Draco gave Scorpius his potions and put him down for a nap. He was just finishing up when Draco returned. “You know, I could go to the market for you. If you like. Just make a list and point me where to go.”

“You don’t need to do that, I should go considering you will be my guest.” Draco hedged.

“And I know good and well that you don’t want to leave Scorpius for that long. Just make the list, alright. I’m here to help after all.” Ron smiled encouragingly and thought he saw the tips of Draco’s ears going pink before he went into the sitting room to retrieve some parchment from the writing desk. Fifteen minutes later he presented Ron with a list that should serve for the next week. 

Draco pointed out of the sitting rooms double window. “The market is just down the block on the corner. It is a wizarding market which should make matters simpler. You can charge the lot to my account and they can deliver everything without you having to carry it.” Ron took the list with a small salute and left. Draco checked in on Scorpius then decided a shower was in order after days without a proper bath.

{*} {*} {*}

The next few days fell into a sort of routine; trading shifts with Scorpius at night, sharing magic together over meals, and hours of entertaining a six year old wizard. Not including Hermione’s daily visit and exam. They seemed to keep surprising themselves as they learned more of each other in the forced proximity. Draco’s potions skills made him a rather excellent cook and when he wished to apply himself to the task, he could turn out some rather gourmet fare. Ron likewise was a good cook, though he relied on tried and true skills learned from his Mum over the years to make simple meals that Scorpius loved and Draco did not turn his nose up at either. Ron even introduced them to the novelty of Muggle take-out, laughing at the cautious way Draco tried his first slice of pizza and pint of Chinese noodles. Ron was often baffled by how normal it all felt, certain that things shouldn’t possibly be this relaxed between him and Malfoy.  
He also realized they were in a safe cocoon of isolation for now. As pleasant as all this was, surely it would evaporate when real life intruded.

Then there was the mounting tension Ron felt between Draco and himself. What had started as random thoughts and hidden glances while they were at the hospital had turned into actual fantasies, and lingering looks when they caught the other one staring. It had all started that first day when Ron had taken his own shower before dinner then found his shirt missing when he got out. He had pulled on his joggers and padded out into the sitting room barefooted to ask if either of them had seen his shirt only to be faced with the answer.

Scorpius leapt up from the loveseat and ran around in circles. “Look Ron! It’s the same color as your hair. Isn’t it beautiful?!” He flapped his arms like a bird in flight, Ron’s brilliant orange Chudley Cannons t shirt swallowing his small frame. “Can I wear it tonight?”

Ron wasn’t sure what to say and it dawned on him that Draco was particularly silent also. He turned and found Draco frozen in place behind the book he had been reading, his eyes roaming hungrily over Ron’s bare torso. Ron had nothing to be ashamed of in the physique department and it occurred to him how he must look, damp and disheveled from the quick towel dry, his nipples hardened by the cooler air of the sitting room. He watched Draco watching him until those grey eyes snapped up to meet his. Realizing he had been caught, Draco turned a violent shade of red and disappeared behind his book while Scorpius tugged on Ron’s hand.

“So can I? Wear it tonight?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Sure you can. I’ll...I’ll just go find another one.” He had disappeared into the bedroom to rummage in his bag for another shirt then lost himself in preparing dinner. He had worried about embarrassed looks over their meal but Draco acted as though nothing had happened while Scorpius kept up his usual stream of banter, well on his way to a complete recovery. Eventually, Ron managed to put it out of his mind also.

But little things like that kept happening, making their growing attraction even harder to ignore. Like tonight.

Draco had put Scorpius into the bath after dinner to get him ready for bed while Ron reclined on the loveseat reading a book he had found during the unpacking. He hadn’t been able to sit idle when he wasn’t directly busy with Scorpius so Ron had ended up unpacking the sitting room the day before, much to Draco’s surprise. He read comfortably until a freshly scrubbed and pajamaed Scorpius crawled into his lap and snuggled between his arms.

It felt completely natural to wrap his arms around Scorpius and run his fingers through the damp hairs at the base of Scorpius’ neck. There was a shiver in response and Scorpius snuggled closer without any comment. “You feeling sleepy, mate?” A nod against his chest and a stifled yawn was the only reply. Ron glanced down and saw Scorpius staring blankly at his book, eyelids blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. Smiling to himself he continued to read, letting Scorpius settle for the night.

“Are you going to be Papa’s new special friend?” The sleepy question coming out of the blue. Before Ron could decide how to respond, Scorpius mumbled another drowsy thought. “Papa thinks you’re fit...he likes fit. Don’t you like Papa?”

Ron let his book drop to the floor and looked for Draco, worried about being overheard. “I-I like Papa just fine and I like you a great deal, but no, I don’t want to be his special friend.” If Ron expected a protest at his statement, it never came. Instead Scorpius drowsed a bit more. Ron began to relax but Scorpius wasn’t done after all. 

“I see. You want to be more than a friend. Do you want to marry Papa? You could be my Dad.”

“No!” Ron said sharply only to lower his voice and apologize. “I’m sorry, Scorpius but I don’t want to marry your Papa. We weren’t even nice to each other before this.” Ron tried not to think about earlier when he had seen Draco with his shirt tails hanging over the waist of his trousers and found himself idly wondering what Draco looked like when he was pregnant and what it would have been like to share that experience...to have been there when Scorpius was born.

“Why did you lie? It’s not very nice. You’ve been thinking about it...about Papa. I know you have.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore Scorpius. You need to go to sleep okay?”

“Okay,” came the quiet reply. Then silence.

Ron felt horrible but things were getting out of hand. He didn’t come into this expecting a ready made family. He let his head thump back onto the arm of the loveseat and stared at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.” Ron raised his head to look down at the sleeping boy. Still seeing no sign of Draco, he leaned forward to whisper softly in Scorpius’ ear.

“It’s all true mate. You were right about everything. But your Papa will never want me and I don’t want to get you or I hurt expecting something that will never happen.”

But Draco _had_ been listening, just outside the kitchen door where Ron couldn’t see him. He found it more than disconcerting how anxious he was to hear Ron’s replies to Scorpius’ questions and insights. He was startled to know he wasn’t the only one having similar thoughts and trying to deny them. He stepped into the sitting room catching the end of Ron’s quiet words to Scorpius.

“Ron…?” Weasley looked at him, panic and fear etched across his face despite the frisson of heat that passed between them when their eyes met. “I…” Draco didn’t know what he thought he was going to say so he opted for safety. “I...should really put Scorpius to bed.” Draco cursed himself for a coward as the flicker of heat died like a flame in a gust of cold wind, the shutters closing in those expressive eyes. 

“I can take him.” Ron shifted smoothly, lifting Scorpius’ small body easily and carrying him into his room. Ron lowered him into the bed and pulled the covers up tucking him in snuggly before walking out into the hall where Draco waited.

“You have to understand...about Scorpius.” Draco began.

“He’s a fine brilliant boy, Draco. You have done a great job with him.” Ron glanced restlessly down towards the sitting room. He knew Draco had to have heard him but he was apparently just going to keep pretending that nothing was going on. “You really don’t have to explain anything.”

“As odd as it sounds, I keep thinking that I should thank you...for him.”

Ron growled softly in his throat; he didn’t think he could pretend anymore. Cupping Draco’s face in his hands, Ron pressed him back against the wall and lowered his head, fitting his mouth over Draco’s at last.

After the initial surprise, Draco began to respond, moaning softly into the kiss as he first gripped Ron’s elbows, then biceps before sliding his arms around Ron’s neck. Draco let himself melt against the planes and hardness of Ron’s body as the kiss deepend, groaning as Ron sucked his bottom lip and hummed hungrily into his mouth. They were pressed together from groin to chest, both of them aware of the growing erections tenting their trousers. 

Ron ground himself against Draco, one large palm skimming the lean back to grip Draco’s arse and pull him even closer. The thrust of Draco’s hips against his own and their matching moans broke him from whatever foolishness had possessed him. He pulled back from Draco as though he were on fire.

“I’m so sorry. That was out of line.” He stared at Draco flushed with arousal, obviously sharing the same desires as him and had no idea what to do. “I...I’m… Goodnight.” He turned and fled into the bedroom determined not to come out until morning. Maybe Hermione would release him to go home tomorrow. Ron ignored the small voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Scorpius telling him he was already home and went to bed.

{*}{*}{*}

Ron wasn’t sure what had woken him or even what time of the morning it was. Early he thought, judging by the faint light just filtering through the window, casting dark grey shadows across the room. He closed his eyes and snuggled back under the covers, wrapping his arm more securely around the warm body next to him.

It took his groggy mind several long minutes to register where he was and several more to realise that there shouldn’t be anyone in the bed with him. Ron opened his eyes to a swath of light colored hair upon the pillow next to him. _Bloody hell! How did he end up here?!_ Ron scoured his memory of last night’s events but nothing had transpired after he went to bed. He needed to get out of the bed before Draco woke but couldn’t figure out how to extricate himself carefully enough. Too late Ron realised his arm had tightened around Draco’s waist in his panic and roused the sleepy blond. Ron began apologizing as soon as he felt Draco move.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened but I promise nothing happened!” _Had it?_ He took stock of himself, certainly not feeling as though he had been engaged in any amorous pursuits recently.

Draco was just catching up to the situation himself, grabbing Ron’s arm just as the ginger tried to pull away again. “Stop panicking. You didn’t do anything.” That at least got Ron to stop while Draco tried to get his sluggish brain functioning properly. “I think it was me.” He smirked at the indistinct ‘Hm’ this got from Ron. “I got up to go to the loo in the middle of the night. I was barely awake and must have turned towards the bedroom out of habit when I came out.”

Ron was a bit more alert. “You’ve been in this flat less than two weeks now. I doubt you could say it was habit, using the hall bathroom instead of the one in the master bedroom.”

Draco turned until he faced Ron in the bed, very aware of being nearly naked except for his shirt and pants. Pants alone for Ron apparently as Draco saw only the pale expanse of Ron’s chest. At least he hoped there were pants. He wasn’t certain he could cope with a naked Ron just now. “You’re correct. Probably not habit.” He let his words linger between them before gathering his courage. He slid even closer to Ron, placing his hand over one firm pectoral. “Maybe this is just where I wanted to be.” He heard Ron’s sharp intake of breath but ignored it in favor of kissing Ron firmly before pulling back slightly. “You got me all worked up then left me hanging, Weasley. That’s no way to treat a guy.”

“I’m sorry. Wait...what?” Ron wasn’t sure he heard correctly but his libido was catching on. “I didn’t think you would want… _me_.”

Draco slid one hand behind Ron’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss. This one far less chaste leaving both of them panting slightly when they parted. “Oh, I want alright. It started within a day of sharing our magic with Scorpius and it’s only gotten stronger over the last few days. I can’t seem to stop thinking about you...wanting you. It’s embarrassing really and should be the last thing on my mind but there it is.”

Ron’s face broke into a huge grin as he pulled Draco against his chest. “I never thought I’d see a day when Draco Malfoy would want a Weasley.” The teasing tone earned him a swat from Draco but he ignored it in favor of nuzzling into Draco’s pale throat, dotting kisses here and there before taking one earlobe between his lips and sucking gently. “I can’t stop either. It makes no sense. I’ve never wanted anyone this way...felt this kind of connection.”

Draco moaned, lifting one leg over Ron’s thigh to bring them even closer together while Ron continued the assault on his neck with lips, tongue, and teeth. “I think it’s the magic...purebloods and magic...they can connect differently...bond.” He couldn’t stop rutting against Ron’s leg, anxious for even more. 

Ron pushed Draco back onto his pillow, moving over him until his hips slotted between pale thighs and brought their equally hard cocks into alignment. He pushed down against Draco firmly just to watch the blond moan and squirm. “I don’t care. I don’t even need an explanation anymore. I just want you.” 

Draco had time to nod before Ron’s lips found his once more. Mouths seeking hungrily as they frotted against each other. Draco wrapped his legs around Ron’s hips and gripped Ron’s shoulders, enjoying the mounting stimulation though fearing he would reach the edge far too soon.

Ron broke their kiss, panting roughly as he searched Draco’s eyes. “How do you want it?” He thrust against Draco’s cloth covered prick pointedly, prompting a low moan. “Like this? Or with me inside?”

It had been months since he had been with anyone but Draco’s answer was immediate. “Inside. Please. Make the connection.” Ron hadn’t moved yet so Draco arched up against him. “I want it Ron. You inside of me. I won’t be satisfied with anything less.”

Ron groaned once before surging into action. Forgetting any of Hermione’s warning about taxing their magic, he grabbed his wand from the nightstand. Banishing their pants in one breath and preparing Draco with the next. His wand fell to the floor forgotten as he grabbed a pillow and wedged it beneath Draco’s hips to position him properly. Draco spread his legs to give Ron room, pulling his knees back towards his chest to open himself more fully. Ron moaned at the sight, leaning forward to brace himself with one hand by Draco’s shoulder as he began to press forward into Draco’s tight heat.

Draco hissed softly and Ron froze. Draco just shook his head, grabbing Ron’s hip with one hand. “Keep going, just kiss me.” Ron obliged, bringing his lips to Draco’s, their mouths opening to each other as Draco opened for his cock. Ron was fully sheathed in Draco’s body soon after, grinding into Draco’s arse as a blinding jolt of magic seared through them both, a connection recognised and made in an instant. 

“Fucking hell!” Ron help swearing at the intense sensation, he had never felt anything like that with anyone else he had ever been with. Maybe that was why he had always been content with casual relationships. He knew without a doubt that this was not going to be casual.

“Mmm...Fuck, yes.” Draco flexed his muscles encouraging Ron to move.

Ron rocked back and forth with small thrusts and circling his hips, driving Draco slowly mad before he finally pulled out enough to thrust with any force.

Draco grunted softly. “More. Harder.”

“Just like a Malfoy, greedy and bossy.” He teased Draco as he pulled out then drove his cock in hard, silencing the snarky comment he knew would be coming. He was rewarded when Draco cried out in pleasure.

“Ron!”

Hearing his name fall from Draco’s lips with such passion was what broke Ron’s control. He grabbed Draco’s hips and began to drive into the slim body with long strokes, sinking his shaft over and over. Ron’s control of his mouth seemed to disappear at the same time as his libido and he found himself voicing the thoughts he had been having recently.

“This is insane.” He leaned forward pushing himself deep into Draco and grinding against the upturned arse watching Draco’s head thrash against the pillow. “Do you know I’ve imagined you pregnant?” Draco gasped as another thrust struck home, his eyes flying open and finding Ron’s in the pre-dawn gloom. “Imagined being here...like this...playing a more _active_ ,” he snapped his hips sharply for emphasis, “role in the conception than I did with Scorpius. Imagined being there for all of it.” His thrusts were speeding up with his words. “That’s not normal is it?”

“N-no...not normal.” Draco struggled not to scream as Ron filled him repeatedly. “But I have...m-me too.” The friction of Ron’s abdomen against his cock with every thrust coupled with his confession finally pushed Draco over the edge, spilling himself between them with ragged cries.

Ron’s strokes grew erratic as his own climax approached, the rhythmic squeeze of Draco’s muscles pulling him over the edge as well. There was pleasure unlike anything he’d ever experienced, better than magic and flying combined. That was the last thing he remembered for a while.

{*} {*} {*}

“Papa! Papa! Is Ron my dad now?!”

Ron’s eyes flew open as the ball of energy fondly known as Scorpius landed on the bed, jostling him against Draco who seemed to be as dazed as he felt. 

“Hm? I don’t know about that. I think we’ll have to wait and see.” Draco managed to lift his head enough to look at Ron. “Do you feel like you need some coffee? I really need some coffee.” That was all he managed before his head dropped to the pillow again, his eyes closing against the morning light.

Ron contemplated getting the coffee except for two things. He was pretty sure he was still naked beneath the covers and he didn’t seem to be able to move any more than Draco. What was going on?

Scorpius had slid off the bed with a smile and disappeared down the hallway. He returned with two potions vials, both Pepper-Up potions they had all become familiar with during Scorpius’ illness. Scorpius climbed into the bed and wedged himself in between the two of them handing them each a potion.

When he gave Ron his potion, he pressed his small hand to Ron’s stubbled jaw. “Silly Daddy. You and Papa should have waited to bond when your magic was better. Miss Hermione will lecture you when she comes. Drink up now.” Ron just gaped at the boy. 

_They couldn’t have!_

He looked over at Draco, a dawning awareness in his eyes that equalled his own. 

_Mum was gonna kill him!_

Scorpius scooted under the covers, snuggling between them both and reaching for a hand each. His toy dragon roared and Scorpius smiled happily.

_On second thought, Mum would understand._

{*} {*} {*}

**Author's Note:**

> **This work is part of an ongoing fest.**
> 
>  
> 
> Please feel free to leave love/comments for the artist either here, [on LJ](https://ron-draco-fest.livejournal.com/), or [DW](https://ron-draco-fest.dreamwidth.org/).


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